


Meet Me in the Dark

by sp00kz



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Love, M/M, Mostly Fluff, One Shot, Secret Relationship, milex - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25258456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp00kz/pseuds/sp00kz
Summary: "If you are, I'm quite alright, hiding today."
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Meet Me in the Dark

Miles always loved the dark.

It wasn't just because he worked better at night, felt energy pump through his veins like an elixir fuelled by the quiet.

No, it was because of how forgiving night could be.

Daylight has a way of holding you to your actions.

But, shrouded in the darkness of night, it's like the rules could be bent and you could be allowed indiscretion.

You could steal.

And steal, he did.

Moments of unspeakable bliss.

Lips to supple skin.

Fingers gliding down rippled muscles.

Wanting, feeling, needing, stealing.

  
  
Alex liked nights too.

It wasn't just that he wrote better at night.

Inspiration came to him at night.

The quiet of the night had a way of detangling all the thoughts buzzing in his head and making them flow more coherently.

No, It was that the night could be so yielding.

The daylight was so demanding of him,

of what and who he needed to be, what everyone needed him to be.

But the night allowed him the freedom to shed his scales.

Darkness didn't judge what darkness couldn't see.

Darkness allowed him to be vulnerable without feeling exposed, touched without feeling guilty of it, and loved without feeling burdened by it.

Darkness turned two friends into two faceless silhouettes.

  
  
//

If you were to ask Miles, he’d tell you it all started on a summer’s day. 

Although, if someone were to watch a montage of their lives, they might say that it really started years ago, when they met for the very first time, gravitating towards each other like they’d known each other in every previous lifetime, destined to, once again, find their way to the other, getting along instantly like a house on fire.

Miles may be a romantic but he wasn't far gone enough to believe in love at first sight. 

So no, he’d say it was that fated night in July.

He remembered it vividly. He’d recollected and replayed it enough times for all the details to be permanently branded in his mind.

It had been one of those still, breezeless kind of summer nights, a particularly hot one at that.

But there had been a placidity in the stillness that Miles had been reluctant to disrupt with any movement of his own. 

And so he lay there on the floor of his tiny living room, surrounded by empty beer bottles, Alex on his side, mimicking his own impression of a floating corpse, Alex’s iPod dock between them filling the otherwise quiet space with the voices of The Beatles.

Their first ever puppets tour was done and they had a couple of free days before they went back to working with their respective bands, their _real_ day jobs. He was enjoyably buzzed, free of any immediate obligations and he felt more at ease than he ever remembered feeling. His body felt comfortably heavy, lethargy weighing it down to the floor and he felt no urge to fight it.

They hadn’t even bothered getting up to turn on the lights when daylight dissolved into darkness, leaving the room to illuminate itself with what little light it could borrow from the streetlamps outside and the dim kitchen bulb that flickered occasionally.

But the feeling of calm soon dissipated, for Miles anyway, when the next song on the playlist started playing. 

Because when he looked over at Alex, just as Paul sang _Nobody can deny that there's something there,_ it felt like a piece of Tetris had just fallen into its perfect groove somewhere in his brain. 

Like he could almost hear a click.

Alex caught his eyes and gave him the kind of sincere smile that filled him up to the brim with...something. 

He didn’t know if Alex noticed it too or what _it_ was or how to process it, all he knew was that something had changed. 

And suddenly the song, its words, the look in Alex’s eyes, his slightly parted lips that were mere inches away (had they always been this pretty?), it was all too much. 

Maybe it was just that, the music. Maybe it was the other’s eyes, glimmering with warmth, or the cover of the night, or maybe it was a combination of it all, and if nothing else, he could always blame it on the booze, but that night something pushed Miles to act on his impulse.

Holding the other’s gaze, without giving himself the chance to reason against it, he leaned in, tentatively brushing his lips against the other’s.

Alex didnt respond but he also didn’t violently retract, or pull away at all.

He didn’t so much as blink, much less close his eyes. He just stared at Miles as if petrified. 

And Miles was too far gone for any pragmatism so he leaned in again, this time pressing his lips to the other’s with more, albeit feigned, confidence. Asking, seeking, urging.

He was just about ready to pull away and employ plan B, blame it on the alcohol and fake memory loss tomorrow, when he felt a hand gingerly land on his face, holding him in place. He felt the other’s lips coming out of its stupor, parting to make room for Miles’. 

And then they were kissing, in a way that could not be written of as chaste, friendly, or innocent. And there was no way he could pretend to forget it ever happened.

And in that moment, he knew that everything was different. 

Because he had been split into two.

The Miles before he was kissed by Alex and the one after.

And he could never go back to being the first one again because now he had known what _this_ felt like. To be the centre of Alex’s ministration, to have his tongue slip into his mouth, to have his teeth knock against his own.

It was only the first time, but kissing Alex already felt like a drug, stronger and more potent than any he had ever taken. The kind that once you’ve had a taste of, you couldn’t just choose to shrug and walk away from.

//

Alex would say it started even before.

He couldn’t put his finger on exactly when or draw up a picture of the exact day.

It was really just little instances strung together, inconsequential enough on their own for him to be able to pretend they had meant nothing.

For instance, it could have been the first time they went on stage together. 

Alex had been a bundle of nerves. 

Yes, he had performed in front of crowds dozens of times before, most of which were far bigger than the one he was faced with then. But It had never been easy. 

Something about performing for the first time without the comforting presence of the rest of the monkeys behind him had been especially nerve-racking. 

Instead, behind him had been an orchestra, the daunting presence of which did nothing to ease his anxiety.

He had stood in front of the mic, clutching his guitar close to his body like a shield. 

His eyes had darted across the crowd and then to his side, landing on Miles.

He had caught his eyes right before they were set to begin and the eye contact had somehow done the job of a comforting arm around his shoulder.

He had smiled at him and nodded reassuringly and Alex’d felt his stomach do a flip that he may have written off as a side effect of the nerves.

  
  


Or back when they were in France, spending their days in the recording studio and nights cuddled together in a bed, getting familiar with each others’ minds and bodies in a way that seemed natural and also entirely innocent to them at the time. 

Or perhaps when Alex started catching himself staring.

Like the day they got done recording sooner than expected, so they decided to go swimming in a nearby lake and Miles lay on the grass spread out like a starfish and the sun caught the slight golden tinge in his hair. 

And Alex was so mesmerized that he couldn't bring himself to look away.

And then his gaze drifted to the other’s closed eyes, his brows slightly knitted against the onslaught of the sun. Knowing that Miles couldn’t see him made him brave enough to steal a few more moments of unabashed ogling, to let his eyes linger over the smooth expanse of his bare chest and the little droplets of water yet to evaporate, glistening with trapped light. 

And he could no longer fool himself into believing what he was doing was anything other than that, ogling. 

  
  


//

It was late in the night. So late, it was almost early morning. 

Alex fought the sleep that was trying with all its might to weigh down his eyes. 

He knew he should call it a night and go to bed. Should have a few hours ago, really. Every bone in his body was screaming for rest but instead of complying, he just stubbornly pulled the blanket tighter around him and continued flicking through the channels.

He settled on an old black and white movie that looked like it was already in the depths of its adventures. The two characters on screen screamed at each other with gusto and then there was some declaration that was likely meant to shock the audience that had bothered to follow the storyline from the start, but as it were, meant nothing to him. 

Just as Alex was starting to get a grip on the plot and lose himself to the film, a soft knock brought him back to his living room. 

He muted the tv, but made no move to get up and open the door. 

Sure enough, after a few seconds came the telltale faint sound of the lock clicking and the handle turning and in walked a figure clutching a travel bag and a suitcase.

“Finally! You’re here.” 

He watched the figure, silhouetted by the light in the hallway and the distinct lack of light inside the flat, jump, startled by the voice he clearly wasn’t expecting, and then slowly relax when he caught sight of Alex huddled up on the sofa.

“Where else would I go?”

He abandoned his bags by the door and made his way to him.

“You stayed up waiting?”

“What else would I do?”

He lifted the blanket inviting the other to join him within its shelter. Miles smiled and settled in without missing a beat, pulling Alex into an embrace underneath their soft woolen cocoon.

From here Alex could finally see him clearly, the lights from the tv illuminating the contours of his face. He looked tired, but his eyes, a contrast to the dark rings surrounding them, were gleaming with life. 

“I missed you,” Miles said before kissing him like he had been denied it all his life, warily at first and then ravenously. 

And oh God, had Alex missed this. And him.

His touch that, even after all these years, set his skin alight, his smell that still made him feel heady, his crooked smile and his contagious laugh.

He wondered how he had managed to get through the past few weeks without him. 

“I missed you too. He whispered breathlessly. “So fucking much.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”

He groaned. “Stop killing the mood and kiss me again.”

“Gladly.”

He was in the middle of touring and so was Miles and they only had this one night when their paths crossed. One night before they went their separate ways again and who knew how many more weeks it would be until they got to be in the same city again. 

Alex wanted to hold onto every tick of the clock, to taste it and savour it and burn it to his memory, to make the most of it so he could fill himself with enough of Miles to get through the torturous few weeks that lay ahead.

“Bedroom. Now.”

Maybe someday he’d have the courage to give form to their silhouettes.

Someday, he thinks, he’ll be brave enough to face the world as he was. 

To give what they have a name, to call it what they both knew it was.

Maybe someday he’d have the courage to drag it out into the light, for all to see, to be scrutinized and judged and thrown roses at and stones alike. And when that day comes, he’d be strong enough to bear it all. 

But for now, he reckons he’s alright keeping it just theirs, protected by walls and veiled by the night.  
  



End file.
